Alberto Tadiello is a bit of an enigma. "I don’t have a design background—not at all," he tells Co.Design. "I have a background as a mountain climber and as a construction worker." Despite the subtle subterfuge surrounding his creative pedigree, he has spent the last decade building up an impressive body of work, including numerous intricate solo and group exhibitions, residencies, and awards.
His projects often explore how incorporating a mix of the senses will enhance and evolve the viewer’s understanding of his particular site-specific installations. "I’m interested in creating a physical experience without implicating a physical contact," he says. "What I want is to make something epidermic that borders visual and auditory sensations, becoming nearly tactile."
As such, many of his pieces—composed of electrical equipment arranged in entirely new standalone and wall-bound constructions—feature a sonic element; this added aural pleasure transforms the often purely visual gallery visit into something extrasensory. "Rather than working with sound, I believe I’m working with sonorities, timbres, pitches," he says. "I always refer myself to elements like resonance, vibration, and echo and to the possibility of sound to draw and sculpt a space."
His process varies according to the particular assignment at hand, taking on new depth depending on what component parts he finds—which he describes as a "bit of this, bit of that"—and when inspiration strikes. "There are works that start with notes, researches, abstract ideas, concepts, and so on, and I go searching for the ‘suitable materials’ only later, consequently. Sometimes everything works exactly the other way around. I find the materials, and then I make a project turn around them, developing a concept."
While this fluid approach seems like it might be at odds with the incredibly precise nature of some of his more complex endeavors, there is a beautiful poetry that is inherent within the final results and his intentions. "What I would really like is that when people leave an exhibition space, they could bring along the residue of what they saw, heard, and felt. I think that would be enough," he says. "I believe something similar occurs when you face the sun—when you turn your face completely to the sunlight. Once you close your eyes, the spots of what impressed them remain in the head. On the face a sort of warmth burns."